Bail Out
by kladams50
Summary: Ezra's past comes a calling
1. Chapter 1

**BAIL OUT**

By: KellyA

**Part 1**

JD Dunne stepped out of the jailhouse and into the early autumn dusk. Fingers of cool air ruffled his dark hair. He tugged on his black bowler and rested his hands on his twin Colts. The young gunslinger surveyed the area searching for anything out of the ordinary. The saloon earned his attention first. He was relieved to hear only the familiar tuneless piano banging out some undecipherable song.

The town had been quiet for the past couple of days. Many farmers and ranchers were busy with their crops and herds and only came to town for supplies, which kept trouble to a minimum. It had been three weeks since Judge Travis had appointed him sheriff of Four Corners. He knew he was still proving to the townsfolk, and himself, that he was capable of maintaining the peace in the fast-growing town. The people were willing to give him a chance, not so much because of his enthusiasm and honesty, but because he had six deputies who were more than capable of keeping order.

JD sauntered down the boardwalk, his stride buoyed by his responsibility and pride. He loved helping people it's what made life worth living, at least for him. Halfway through his circuit of the town he looked west toward the setting sun, its sphere tinged red as it kissed the desert horizon. He squinted and shaded his eyes as he watched three dark forms appear out of the desert landscape.

Three chestnut horses plodded down the street, their downtrodden gait was enough to tell the young sheriff that they had traveled far. The sun's glare obscured the riders and JD strained to make out their features; strangers were always a concern on the wild frontier. They were probably only drifters or cowhands, but one thing JD had learned over the past couple weeks was that if you wanted to live to a ripe old age, you never let your guard down.

The three riders continued up the street, seemingly oblivious to the town and its inhabitants. JD could now make out the individual riders as they approached. The leader was a heavily jowled man, who sat ramrod straight in the saddle. Two considerably younger men trailed behind, not bothering to disguise their weariness as they sat slumped in their saddles.

JD watched as they stiffly dismounted. He tried to overcome his inexperienced manner in favor of a more professional attitude but wariness and curiosity churned within him and were all too prevalent on his boyish features. He glanced over towards the saloon hoping one of the others would appear. He relaxed when he noticed the symbols of law pinned to the riders' shirts and quickly moved to introduce himself.

"Where can I find the sheriff?" The older man asked looping his reins around the railing. The voice was hoarse and tired, but carried an air of authority that JD found hard to ignore.

JD gazed at the older man, who was about Josiah's age. His eyes were deeply set and the pale gray color of woodsmoke. The tin star was the only thing that glistened on the otherwise dust-encrusted clothes.

"You're looking at 'im," JD replied, pushing aside his jacket to reveal the star pinned to his vest.

"You're the sheriff? You're just a kid," one of the younger men scoffed as he loosened the cinch on his saddle.

The older lawman grinned. To a man of his years most everyone seemed young. But now that he looked more carefully at the young man he felt his deputy's skepticism was justified. The boy barely looked old enough to shave let alone carry the weight of authority.

"I'm Sheriff Jim Kane and these are my deputies Mitch Peters and Tom Weller. We're out of Fort Laramie." Kane removed his hat and ran thick fingers through his dirty gray hair. He failed to notice the quizzical expression on JD's face. Kane pulled a bandana out of his pocket and wiped his brow. "We're here to pick up the prisoner."

JD rubbed the side of his face and frowned. They didn't have any prisoners. He recalled that Fort Laramie wasn't actually a Fort or hadn't been for some time. After the war, a small city had built-up around the obsolete stronghold and had taken on the name of the Fort.

Kane rolled his eyes in exasperation at the young sheriff's confusion. Damn, he hated hick towns. It had been a long and dusty ride. He had pushed hard so that they could get back to Laramie by the end of the week. "Judge Travis sent me," he added in way of clarification.

"When?" JD asked.

"Well it was awhile ago we've been up North rounding up a few other wanted men. Finally got around to this…" Kane glanced around the small dusty town. "…quaint burg."

JD got a bad feeling and again wished one of the others would show up. "Who are you here to pick up?"

"Ezra Simpson, also known as Ezra Standish," Kane explained.

JD pushed his hat back on his head and exhaled not wanting to tell the Sheriff he just wasted his time. "Ah, we don't have any prisoners."

"He escaped!" Kane retorted hotly shoving his bandana back into his pocket.

"Well, no sir, not exactly," JD stammered, shifting nervously.

Kane leaned over, his large hands grasping the hitching rail. "Son, we've traveled a long way, and I'm not in the mood for games. Now, either you have Mr. Standish or you don't."

JD exhaled and stopped himself from fidgeting. He could feel the man's growing irritation. "Maybe you better talk to Chris Larabee." JD stepped off the boardwalk and past the perturbed men.

Kane straightened and looked over his shoulder at his two deputies. With a nod he indicated that they would follow the young sheriff.

The saloon was catering to a small, but boisterous crowd. A heated game of poker, orchestrated by Ezra Standish, was the center of attention. The flamboyant cardshark was enjoying a prosperous evening.

Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner sat at a corner table enjoying the sociable and peaceful atmosphere. Chris glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he saw Buck flirting with a barmaid. The past three weeks had been extremely eventful, as well as revealing, for the seven new lawmen. Chris found his thoughts revolving more and more around the six men he worked with. They were discovering that they all shared a common bond, something that tied them together heart and soul. His musings steered his gaze to Josiah Sanchez. The grizzled, former preacher sat at the next table sharing a drink with his friend and healer, Nathan Jackson. Josiah explained the strange bond as their destiny and was satisfied that it sufficiently explained everything, leaving the others even more perplexed.

Ezra laid down his cards and flashed a smile wide enough to show his gold tooth. Chris and Vin shared a grin at the sound of defeat from three business men who saw fit to challenge the skilled gambler. Both lawmen also made sure grumbling was the only show of displeasure.

Larabee could not understand why sensible people continued to play the slick cardshark. As far as he could tell Ezra never cheated. He allowed the gambler to ply his trade as long as it didn't interfere with his peace-keeping duties, or until he caught him cheating. At least Ezra didn't hide his profession. The man dressed the part; from fancy tailored jackets and silk shirts, down to the calfskin boots: Ezra was proud of who he was.

Chris watched as two players left the gambling table, only to be replaced by two eager cowhands. Of all his men, Standish was the most complex. The southerner flaunted an air of arrogance and indifference, but his six comrades had caught glimpses of another man underneath; someone who secretly gave money to the orphanage or let a destitute farmer win to pay his mortgage. Ezra never took credit for any of his quiet good deeds. It was as if they were an embarrassment or a betrayal of his upbringing-After meeting Ezra's mother, Chris could understand why.

Chris tossed back the last of his beer and glanced over the empty glass at the tracker. He had known Vin Tanner for barely three weeks and already felt as close to him as a brother. He trusted Vin with his life from the day they met and Chris was convinced of the other men's loyalty, too; well most of them, Ezra still instilled doubts.

It was true the southerner had proven himself reliable in a gunfight. In addition, his acute understanding and manipulation of the English language, at times perplexing to the point of maddening had managed to defuse an impending saloon brawl, although he was also the instigator of said brawl. His verbal skills assisted in gathering information on several outlaws. But Chris still couldn't help but feel that this was just a transitory job for the conman and that when the time came he would move on without a second thought. He held no allegiance to the six other men he worked with and this worried the steadfast gunslinger.

Larabee knew the others were forging strong friendships, but none of them could forget that Standish had left them high and dry at the Indian village, almost getting them killed. Ezra had come back and saved them, but his betrayal wounded them and it was a hard thing to let heal, especially, when Ezra picked at the scab with some self-seeking deed that alone kept the wily cardshark on the outer fringes of their little family. Chris believed some of the exclusion was Ezra's doing. Taught to hide his feelings at a young age, Ezra never trusted anyone but himself. Chris hoped that Josiah was starting to crack the impenetrable shell that the conman had built around his emotions.

Gambler turned lawman. Chris chuckled as he rolled the empty glass between his hands. Guess it wasn't any stranger than a womanizer, a green-horn kid, a wanted man, harden gunslinger, a de-frocked preacher or an ex-slave.

"What'cha thinkin', cowboy?" The soft Texas drawl drew Chris' attention back to the man beside him. A man wanted for a murder he didn't commit. Yeah, life was full of ironies and contradictions. Lord, he was starting to sound like Josiah.

"Just wonderin' where we'll all be in a week."

Vin knew what Chris was thinking. He could even hear the slight melancholy in his new friend's voice. Would Ezra's leaving be the beginning of the end of the seven? The man was only here to earn his pardon from Judge Travis.

"The man is a puzzle," Vin quietly stated as his gaze stretched out over the fancy dressed southerner.

"Yeah, with some of the pieces missin'."

"Nah, he just uses that slight-of-hand of his to hide what he don't want us to see."

Vin felt that he and Ezra were developing a rapport. He sensed that Ezra had been hurt one too many times in his life. The suave southerner may come off as a carefree and unconcerned spirit, but deep inside was buried a fragile soul and heart that could easily be broken. It was something they all had in common, only Ezra guarded his more vigilantly, his distrust of others not easily overcome. Whenever any of them managed to knock out a piece from the cardshark's wall of indifference, something would happen and Ezra would quickly reinforce his barrier and retreat behind it once again. It was a survival instinct. If no one got inside, no one could hurt him.

Vin also worried about what would happen to their little band. Would they all eventually go their separate ways? He knew he would stay with Chris. Nathan and Josiah would probably stay in town or go to the Indian Village; Buck and JD would go off together. That brought him back to Ezra the odd man out.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Bail Out**

******Part 2**

JD's hurried entrance into the saloon was followed closely by the three lawmen. Vin tugged the brim of his slouch hat down when he caught sight of the badges on the stranger's coats. Any lawman outside of their little enclave was potentially dangerous. Vin decided to stay put. If he abruptly walked out, he'd only draw attention to himself.

Chris was quickly on his feet and moving toward the three lawmen, hoping to keep attention away from Vin. Josiah casually stood and placed his immense form between the three strangers and their resident tracker.

"Ah, Sheriff Kane this is…" JD began as Chris approached. Kane stepped past JD, interrupting his introduction, and stepped up behind the red-jacket clad gambler.

"Ezra Standish, you are under arrest." Kane's two deputies immediately fell on both sides of the slick conman. The ripples of conversation in the room died away at the sheriff's edict.

"We'll have to continue this another time, darlin," Buck whispered into the blond barmaid's ear, keeping his eye on Chris as he gently guided the woman off to the side.

Standish recognized the voice and cringed. He saw Larabee standing off to the side and wondered what the somber gunslinger was thinking. Ezra was generally good at reading people's intentions; Larabee had proved a difficult book to decipher. Ezra sighed and looked over his shoulder.

"Ah Sheriff Kane, as I live and breathe," he smoothly exclaimed. "What brings you to our humble burg?" Ezra returned his attention to the game, not waiting for an answer from the sheriff. "Gentlemen, I call."

Kane sneered at the rebuff and motioned to his two deputies. Tom and Mitch roughly grabbed Ezra by the upper arms and yanked him to his feet, scattering his winnings and cards.

"Gentlemen, there is no need for hostilities. I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding."

Kane glared at the smug conman and struck his left arm, activating the hidden derringer as his two deputies quickly removed his other armaments. Chris and the others curtailed their reactions. These men were officers of the law. Chris did hope that this was just a simple misunderstanding and not one of the cardshark's past faux pas catching up with him. Although when it came to Ezra, nothing was ever simple.

Ezra hissed as the deputies bent his arms behind him, forcing him to his toes.

"Jeez this guy has more weaponry than the army," Tom quipped.

"You can never be too prepared."

Larabee finally stepped forward. "What hell is going on?" He felt Buck and Josiah's presence behind him and knew the two big men were using their bulk to hide Vin from view. The less the lawmen saw of their renegade tracker the better.

"Who are you?" Kane growled.

"That's Chris Larabee," JD interjected with a hint of pride.

Kane eyed the darkly dressed gunslinger. The man looked dangerous, but maybe that worked for him. He noticed the two men behind him, both looked ready to back the gunfighter without hesitation. Very few men ever attained or deserved that degree of loyalty. The sheriff glanced over at Standish; did this man fall within that realm?

"I'm sheriff Kane and I'm here to arrest this man for jumping bail in Fort Laramie," Kane explained.

Larabee looked to Ezra. He knew the conman was probably wondering if he was going to throw him to the wolves or save his sorry hide. "Sorry, but Judge Travis pardoned him." _You owe me one_, Chris thought, the hint of a smile crossing his hardened features. "Judge Travis must have forgotten to inform you."

Ezra's smile grew, and he shrugged out of the deputies loosen grips. Josiah wished his friend would humble himself a little. Sheriff Kane didn't appear to be a man who took kindly to being made a fool of.

Kane furrowed his brow and looked at Ezra. The man was positively glowing with self-satisfaction and this burned a hole in the sheriff's gut. "Do you have the papers?" Kane watched the smug smile slip a little from the cardshark's face.

"A simple oversight on the judge's part, I assure you," Ezra commented, looking toward Larabee for assistance. _Damn, he was finding himself relying on the gunslinger more and more. _ He definitely had to get out of this town. He could already hear his mother's mantra: _The only one you can trust is you._

"He has to put in thirty days as a lawman first," Chris explained. The judge was no fool; he wasn't about to hand Ezra his pardon until after he completed his prescribed duty.

Kane's eyes widen as his mouth fell open. "He's a lawman?"

"Yeah, hard to believe ain't it?" Buck laughed. "Reckon we're as confounded by it as you are."

Ezra glared. "You're not helping, Mr. Wilmington."

Buck's smile only grew. It was fun to see the cardshark squirm a little. He really liked Ezra and hoped the man planned to stay past his thirty days. He was still working to get past Ezra's first betrayal, but like Chris, disloyalty was high on his list of reprehensible character flaws. But he had noticed Ezra's attempts at disapproving that flaw.

"What's he to you?" Kane abruptly asked Chris.

_Yes, Mr. Larabee, what am I to you? _ Ezra silently mused. Chris Larabee was a man he had come to reticently respect. He didn't believe that Chris thought of him as anymore than a reliable gun and a pain in the ass.

"He works for me," Larabee simply said, folding his arms over his chest. "Me and my men were hired by Judge Travis to protect this town."

Kane shook his head and wiped a hand down his haggard face. This was just the sort of lamebrain, goodwill idea that Travis would think of-hire a gunslinger as a lawman. The aged magistrate had a reputation of doing whatever it took to preserve and up hold the law. However, hiring a conman was definitely stretching the bounds of sanity.

"You really think he'll stay the full thirty days?" Kane asked. Thirty years as a lawman, and he was now having to answer to a two-bit gunslinger.

"I take offense to that affront to my character," Ezra quipped.

Both Kane and Chris glared at the smart-ass gambler.

"If he don't, I'll hunt him down myself."

"I believe you would," Kane chuckled. He felt a grudging respect for the darkly-clad gunslinger. "But the ink won't even be dry on his pardon before he's back to conning good people and the fact remains that he don't have that pardon yet. So, I'm takin' him in." Kane decided that at least he'll get to see the man behind bars, even if it's just for a short time. He knew Standish's penchant for escaping maybe he could force the conman's hand and show these men the true Ezra Standish, a man who would run the first chance he got.

The two deputies renewed their grip on the conman. Josiah's eyes narrowed when the deputies jerked Ezra's arms up and Tom slapped cuffs on his wrists. Chris didn't like to see one of his men treated like this, but he knew getting angry wouldn't help the situation.

"You're wastin' your time," Buck interjected. "We'll just get hold of the judge."

"True, but it's my time to waste and until then Mr. Standish is my prisoner. Maybe a few days in jail will be good for him." Kane noticed Larabee's uncertainty. He had the upper hand and knew it. Kane turned to JD. "Sheriff, I'll need to use your jail. My men and I will rest up a day or so before heading back to Laramie."

Chris met JD's questioning stare and Ezra's neutral gaze. What was the southerner thinking? Did he think that Chris wanted this to happen? That getting rid of him a week early would be a blessing? What else could he do? The sheriff was within his legal right.

Ezra remained silent, he could see the indecision in Chris' eyes and didn't want to put the gunslinger in a difficult position, against everything he had, Ezra decided to behave.

"Give Sheriff Kane the keys, JD," Chris finally conceded.

JD reluctantly pulled the jailhouse keys from his pocket and handed them to the Sheriff. The two deputies pushed Ezra toward the door. JD grabbed hold of Ezra as he stubbled the conman throwing a weak smile towards the young man.

"I'll be expectin' to hear from the judge soon," Kane stated, tipping his hat he followed his deputies out the saloon doors.

"You can count on it," Buck replied. "Don't worry Ez, we'll have you out in no time," Buck yelled out as Ezra was led towards the jail.

Chris and the others watched as the group exited the saloon and made their way across the street and into the jail, their parade also noticed my several townsfolk, some who couldn't hold back their obvious joy.

"It's about time that cheatin', good-fer-nothing snake was discovered for the low-life he is."

The six gunslingers turned as one to the loud retort from a middle-age man. Mr. Branson, the bank manager, seemed to shrink into his chair as six pairs of eyes fixed on him.

"Ah, I didn't mean nothin' by it," Branson stammered as he quickly stood and left the saloon through the back entrance.

Vin turned on Chris his eyes blazing with anger. "Why'd you let them take him?"

Chris was surprised at the tracker's vehemence. "What the hell was I supposed to do? He's the law."

"Yeah and we don't need any more trouble," Nathan stated looking toward Vin. "What if that sheriff got a look at you?"

"Vin, you need to keep a low profile. We'll do all we can for Ezra," Chris tried to assure the displeased tracker. "JD, talk to Mary. See if she knows where the judge is. Then send a wire and tell him what's going on."

"Don't worry, Vin, Ez can take care of himself," Buck said throwing an arm across the tracker's shoulders. "Maybe we'll finally find out what he did."

Josiah glanced over at Nathan. "What are you smilin' about?"

"Oh, nothing. Just lookin' forward to seeing Ez behind bars," Nathan answered. "Missed it last time." Josiah grinned and shook his head as he picked up his hat. He knew that Ezra and Nathan didn't always see eye to eye. He wasn't sure they ever would.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

******PART 3**

Tom removed the cuffs and shoved Ezra into a cell. Ezra caught himself and casually turned around, rubbing his sore wrists.

"So, how you con Larabee and the Judge into thinkin' you could be a lawman?" Sheriff Kane stepped up to the cell, closing the door and enjoying the heavy click of the lock. How could Travis make this snake- in-the-grass a lawman? It was definitely a slap in every decent lawman's face.

Ezra's easygoing expression fell, replaced with a flat, hard look. It disturbed him when people thought he was pulling a con. He had found himself actually taking pride in the honest employment. _Lord, if his mother ever found out, she'd disown him_. Ezra's lips twitched at the thought. He had to admit that he enjoyed the company of the six gunslingers.

"Sir, I have sworn allegiance to Judge Travis, and the others, and intend to fulfill my obligation," Ezra stated. "At least for another six days, four hours and..." Ezra looked at the regulator clock on the far wall. "…Thirty-seven minutes."

Kane snorted then turned as he heard the jangle of spurs. A dark form entered the dimly lit jail, the light in the doorway diminishing as three more bodies crowded behind him.

"May I help you, Mr. Larabee?" Kane crossed the room and hung the cell key on the wall. The gunslinger still came across as a dangerous man, but he had one flaw. Larabee exuded a sense of honor and fair-mindedness, only upholding the law if it didn't go against his own beliefs. Kane had no problem exploiting this judiciousness for his own means. He desperately wanted to take Standish back to Laramie. The man had made a fool out of him when he jumped bail right under his nose. There were still citizens in town who would love to see the Cardsharp in chains.

"Just here to see my man and make sure he's being treated fairly," Chris stressed the last word.

"As you can see, Mr. Standish is fine. So if you'll excuse me I'm going to get something to eat and a bath." Kane turned to his two deputies. "Mitch, you stay here and guard the prisoner. Tom, you take care of the horses and then get something to eat."

Kane stopped in front of the four gunslingers, regarding them through narrow eyes. Chris stepped aside and the others quickly followed his lead. Kane tipped his hat and headed out the door with Tom Weller right on his heels. Josiah looked over his shoulder at the sheriff and felt something very disturbing; this man was going to be trouble.

"You have ten minutes with the prisoner," Mitch stated firmly as he moved behind the desk, trying to hide his uneasiness. There was something foreboding about these men. He fell heavily into the chair, which promptly dumped him on the floor. Mitch jumped up and glared as the four gunslingers snickered and walked over to Ezra's cell.

Ezra sat on the cot, calmly shuffling a deck of cards through his nimble fingers. He didn't look up when the others approached the cell.

"You going to tell us how this all started?" Chris abruptly asked.

Ezra raised his head and leaned back against the wall. He stared at the four men before him, his face remaining impassive. He still felt the outsider, but Ezra trusted these men and was beginning to admire them. He wanted to call them friends. He had been raised in an environment where such pointless emotions were paramount to betrayal he smiled at the irony. He was still trying to sort out these conflicting feelings. Maybe this was why he decided to tell these men the truth.

Ezra inhaled then slowly released it and removed his hat placing it carefully on the thread-bare cot. The four men waited patiently. "My mother and I were enjoying a sojourn to Fort Laramie. It was my idea to bilk wealthy business men by pretending to be investment brokers in a new hotel."

Nathan snorted his disgust and then felt Josiah's elbow in his ribs. The healer glared at the preacher, but refrained from further comment.

Ezra pretended not to notice Nathan's obvious aversion to his profession. His southern drawl softened and his fingers continued to absently dance between the cards. "I lost interest when mother became enamored with the banker, and returned to the gaming tables. I was unaware that my mother was actually continuing with the scam."

Sadness flashed across Ezra's clean-shaven face. It quickly vanished and the astute preacher wondered if he'd even seen it.

Ezra halted his shuffling and looked into the four lawmen's faces, not seeing any disbelief or condemnation. He released a deep breath. "My gracious mother left in the middle of the night with a substantial amount of money, none of which I received."

Ezra bowed his head, the arrow of his mother's betrayal still embedded in his heart. Maude always told him to watch out for number one. Apparently, she followed her own maxim even when it came to her own son.

The four gunslingers waited for their friend to resume, and yes, they did consider Ezra a friend. They had been trying to pull the stubborn gambler into their extended family, and did not understand why he fought against it. Listening to him as he sat in the jail cell, they were beginning to understand a bit more about Ezra Standish.

"What happened after your mother left?" Josiah quietly prompted. He glanced over to see remorse slowly descend upon the healer.

Ezra chortled as if remembering some private joke. "Well, some good citizen remembered seeing me in her company, and I was promptly arrested. The honorable Judge Travis presided over my hearing and set the trial for two weeks. I spent a few nights in jail, but two weeks is a long time and I bided my time until I could make my escape. Unfortunately, Sheriff Kane was my sentinel. He tried to watch over me for twenty-four hours."

"He fell asleep," Josiah surmised.

Ezra smiled and nodded. "The mind is willing but the body…well you know."

"Did it ever occur to you to just face your punishment?" Nathan tried to keep any presumption out of his tone.

Ezra glared at the healer his cards held tightly and still. "Sir, I was innocent. I may have planned the scheme but at no time did I take partake in it. The thought of being incarcerated did not appeal to me, and I was being unfairly judged by a town that thought I was no better than a stray dog."

Ezra calmed his growing irritation. "I believe that Sheriff Kane took it personally when I escaped." Ezra looked over at the deputy who sat cautiously in the rickety chair at the desk. "I don't suppose you gentlemen could convince Sheriff Kane that I will remain within the confines of this town, so I don't have to remain in this dismal cell?"

Ezra caught the flash of doubt in each of the gunslingers' faces and sighed.

"I see my past transgressions are still very much an issue."

"Ah, Ez, it's probably better you stay locked up so there's no misunderstandin'," Buck tried to soothe.

"We're trying to get hold of the judge," Josiah added. "Hopefully we can clear this up before the sheriff drags you back to Fort Laramie."

Ezra tried to believe in their assurances but it felt like he was being hung out to dry, again. He couldn't blame them for their lack of faith in him. He held very little faith in himself.

"Worse comes to worse, you go to Fort Laramie 'till the judge sends word," Chris explained. "It's only a couple days ride."

"Wonderful," Ezra mocked stretching out on the cot and laying an arm across his eyes.

"If you need anything just holler." Chris stared at the stubborn cardshark then turned and left. Buck and Nathan followed leaving Josiah to study their suddenly reticent friend.

"We are trying to help, Ezra," Josiah said.

Ezra moved his arm enough to gaze up at the older man. "I realize that Mr. Sanchez."

"Try not to worry. I'm sure we'll get this straightened out before the sheriff leaves."

"Maybe it would be better if things were left to run their natural course."

Josiah frowned. "You want us to let him take you away?"

Ezra did not reply. He covered his eyes and listened as Josiah left.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

******Part 4**

"What are we going to do, Chris?" Buck straddled a chair between the tracker and his old friend. He really didn't think the sheriff would take Ezra and thought it amusing that Ezra, for once, was locked up for something he didn't do. How many times had the slick southerner gotten away with his elaborate moneymaking schemes?

"Not much we can do, Buck, they're the law," Josiah answered from his position at the doors, watching for any sign of the three lawmen. Vin was staying in Ezra's room and using the back entrance of the saloon. They all wished that he would leave town but the tracker flat out refused until Ezra was released.

"We're just going to have to sit tight and wait," Chris replied.

"I talked to Ms. Travis and she told me where she thought the judge might be," JD explained. "I sent telegrams to three different towns."

"So we hope one of those wires reaches him in time," Chris replied. He didn't like the idea of the sheriff taking Ezra away and the anxiety he felt at the thought surprised him. Ezra was going to leave anyway, wasn't he?

"We can't let them take Ezra." JD slammed his fist on the table in front of him. "What if he never comes back?" This solidified the very thoughts that swam in the minds of the other gunslingers.

"Why not?" Nathan asked suddenly, sagging back a little as the others each glared at him. "He only has another week left. Do any of you really think he's gonna stay?" Nathan wanted to trust the urbane southerner, but Ezra's prior activities and heritage made it hard for the ex-slave to accept anything other than the first impressions of his smug attitude.

The six lawmen sat silently for a moment, regarding each other with a mixture of doubt and hope. Buck furrowed his brow at the thought of the gentleman gambler leaving. He thought they were finally on the road to becoming friends. He had discovered the slick conman's devious sense of humor and would miss it.

"We don't want our brother to feel we've abandoned him," Josiah pointed out, remembering the forlorn look on Ezra's face back at the jail.

"Ah, Ez knows we care about him," Buck assured.

"Does he?" Vin shot back. "Anyone said or done anything to give him a reason to believe we care?"

The gunslingers regarded each other in turn, feeling that strange connection and wondering if those ties stretched to their resident cardsharp.

**M7M7M7M7M7**

Ezra stared at the ceiling of his cell, the lamplight causing strange shadows to dance across the aged plaster. He was a fool. A fool to think his life could change simply because he was a lawman. All anyone saw was a conman and a cheat. He had started to believe that he found a place where he could belong, even fit in. Six men were showing him another side of life, one that was totally foreign, but one he wanted to be a part of. He should have kept moving. What was so bad about his previous life? He slept late in lavish hotels and ate fine cuisine. Of course, there were negative aspects to his conniving and nomadic lifestyle. He often found himself leaving town unexpectedly just ahead of enraged townspeople. He was always alone even in a crowd. He couldn't trust a soul. His life started over in every town he visited, and he had told so many lies it was sometimes hard to remember the truth.

It was the only way of life he knew. However, six extraordinary individuals had given him a taste of a different way of living. He now knew what he was missing: a sense of belonging, caring about others and having them care about you. It was a feeling that was both exasperating and pleasing. Mr. Sanchez didn't consider their meeting an accident but attributed it to divine intervention. They were fated to be together. Ezra smiled, he hoped Josiah was right.

"It's 'bout time you all got back. I'm starvin'," Mitch greeted Sheriff Kane and his fellow deputy.

"How's our prisoner doing?" Sheriff Kane asked.

"Been quiet as a mouse." Mitch stretched carefully from his seat behind the desk then stood and scratched his lean stomach. "Lord, I could use a good meal. I can still taste the dust from the trail."

"Try some of that apple pie over at the restaurant," Tom suggested as he hung up his guns. "It's the best I've ever had."

Ezra turned his attention to the activities of the three lawmen. His heart raced when he saw the stack of wanted posters in Kane's hand. Keeping his face impassive, he slowly pushed himself up on the cot.

"When we getting out of here anyway?" Mitch asked.

"Soon, are you in some kind of hurry to get back on the trail?"

"No, guess not," Mitch replied. "But those gunslingers don't seem to appreciate us here."

"Don't worry about them," Kane answered raising his voice. "They're lawmen. They're not going to protect some good-fer-nothing conman."

Tom looked over at Ezra and grinned. He felt no pity for the conman. To him, gamblers were all cheats and liars and out for themselves.

"I want you all to go through these posters, no tellin' who might turn up in this town," Kane said placing the stack of condemning notices on the desk and moving over to the stove, tentatively picking up the coffeepot. It was cold. He set the pot back down.

"Yeah, remember the last one we caught?" Mitch reminisced. "Found him sitting in a restaurant just as content as you please. We got over eight-hundred dollars for him."

Ezra's thoughts swirled as he stared intently at the posters. Somehow he knew that Vin's likeness would be amongst those damning papers as sure as he knew where the ace of spades was in a deck of cards. He would be blamed for Vin's capture, and rightly so. The sheriff wouldn't be here if it weren't for his dubious deeds. He wished Sheriff Kane had just taken him to Fort Laramie; the whole town would have probably been happy to see him carted off in chains.

"Tom, you keep an eye on him now, ya hear? I'm gonna do a little checkin' around town," Kane said.

"Sure, go ahead, boss. Hey, Mitch bring me back another slice of that pie."

"Sure, kid," Mitch chuckled as he followed the sheriff out the door.

Ezra stood up, resting his arms on the upper bar, he eyed the young deputy. His gaze shifted to the papers sitting on the corner of the desk. He then flashed his most confident smile. "Sir, can I trouble you for a cup of water?"

Tom hesitated than reluctantly grabbed his canteen, pouring some of the contents into a tin cup.

"Guessin' we can't let you go thirsty," Tom stated as he stepped up to the cell door and handed Ezra the cup of water.

Ezra's smile grew as the boy approached. He had already picked the lock when Mitch had dozed off for a few minutes. He hadn't planned to escape and only did it to keep his skills sharp. Tom stopped in front of the cell door with a foolish smile on his face.

"I'm sorry," Ezra said quietly and bowed his head.

Tom's smiled remained on his face as his brow furrowed at the gambler's comment. "For what?"

Standish raised his head and slammed the door of the cell into the deputy's head. The young man crumpled bonelessly to the ground. "For that."

Ezra squatted down next to the deputy and laid two fingers aside his throat, relieved to feel the strong pulse. He grabbed the posters and began sifting through them. His frantic shuffling stopped and his hand tightened on the one image he hoped not to find. The black sketched image of Vin Tanner glared back.

"Hardly a flattering likeness," Ezra chuckled. The sketch was meant to arouse scorn and disdain. Tanner looked dangerous with his wild mane of hair and eyes drawn as narrow slits.

Ezra glanced around the small jail cell. He couldn't risk hiding the traitorous document in the jail. The deputy groaned, his head rolling to the side. Ezra quickly folded the poster and tucked it in a hidden pocket in the lining of his coat. He grabbed his revolver out of the desk drawer and looked back at the deputy. It would be hard to explain the deputy's condition to the Sheriff and would more than likely get Ezra sent to Yuma prison, much to Sheriff Kane's delight. Ezra was again caught between a rock and a hard place, a residence he was all too familiar with. Ezra glanced outside before slipping out the door and down the alleyway.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

BailOut – Part 5

******Part 5**

Autumn was fighting a losing battle against winter's imminent arrival. The air was crisp and dark clouds rolled in, chased by a coming storm. When Ezra saw that it was deserted he slipped into the stables. He planned to leave: luring the sheriff and his men away from town and Vin Tanner.

"You son of a bitch!"

Ezra turned at the angry voice, meeting the fist that came out of the shadows and struck his jaw, sending him staggering back. A bale of hay stopped his progress towards the floor. Ezra looked up into Chris Larabee's enraged glare.

"Mr. Larabee." Ezra straightened as his tongue checked for any loose teeth. Damn, why did it have to be Larabee? He could have talked his way out with any of the others, but not Larabee.

Chris stood with fists clenched and the muscles in his jaw twitching. "Are you tryin' to make things worse for yourself? I thought you learned your lesson about running out!" He couldn't believe it when he saw the cardsharp slinking into the stables and was prepared to drag his sorry ass back to jail.

Ezra visibly winced at the reminder of his previous misdeed. It would forever be a chain around his neck with Larabee and the others constantly tugging at it.

"The judge gave you a second chance, and you go and throw it back in his face."

Ezra brushed stray straw from his jacket trying to emanate an air of indifference. "Mr. Larabee, please believe me when I say this is in the best interest of everyone."

"You mean in the best interest of your sorry hide. The judge will pardon you only if you hold up your end of the deal." Larabee couldn't believe how angry he was. He thought the flamboyant conman was coming around, starting to take responsibility. He thought Ezra was beginning to care.

Ezra bowed his head. Larabee was far from trusting him, not that he blamed the scrupulous gunslinger. Ezra reached inside his jacket. His hand stopped next to the wanted poster at the distinct sound of a cocking revolver.

"Don't," Chris growled.

Ezra froze and slowly looked up to see Larabee's gun pointed directly at him. Did Chris actually think he would draw on him? Ezra glared into those icy blue eyes hoping to see some hint of skepticism.

"Damn," Ezra murmured under his breath, slowly pulling his hand out from his jacket-empty. Ezra kept his hands away from his body; he was not about to test his speed or disbelief against Larabee's obvious mistrust. Ezra had thought he'd earned a certain measure of faith these past weeks. He had risked his life numerous times for the town and the other gunslingers. These ruminations lit the gambler's fuse. Ezra's eyes darkened at Larabee's implied affront.

Ezra swallowed back his anger. His irritation toward Chris was not important. His voice tightened with seriousness. "Mr. Larabee, there is something I need to tell…"

"Ah, Mr. Larabee, thank you for capturing my prisoner."

Ezra bowed his head at the sound of sheriff Kane's voice.

Chris turned to see the sheriff and Mitch step into the stable, their guns drawn. Mitch crossed in front of him and immediately pulled Ezra's revolver out of his waistband. He grabbed the southerner by the arm and spun him around. Deflated, Ezra allowed himself to be roughly slammed against the wall and cuffs snapped tightly on his wrists. He heard Chaucer snort his displeasure at his owner's treatment. Ezra inwardly chuckled, his horse being the only thing that gave a damn about him.

Chris had reacted on instinct, his survival had always depended on it. Now he stood stunned at what he had done. His anger-induced stupor surrendered to uncertainty at the sound of Ezra hitting the wall. Chris slowly holstered his gun. Was Ezra really going to draw on him?

"You don't have to be so rough," Chris spoke.

Mitch held Ezra against the wall with one arm.

"He assaulted my deputy at the jail," Kane explained.

"Is he okay?" This was definitely out of character for the conman.

"Yeah, just got a bump on the head. Apparently, Mr. Standish feels the need to try and humiliate me once again."

Mitch pushed Ezra toward the door. Ezra spun around to face the sheriff, disgust twisting his features. "I demand we depart immediately for Fort Laramie. I do not wish to delay the wheels of justice from turning any longer." Ezra's usual placid demeanor was lost behind his growing frustration and anger. "I don't want to remain in this miserable town a moment longer."

"What's wrong? You don't like it here anymore?" Kane snidely asked.

"Shoulda known someone like him couldn't cotton to being a lawman," Mitch growled.

"Sir, I was under duress when I joined this pathetic charade. The sooner I'm free of this town's trappings and Mr. Larabee's tyranny the better. This dark demon of disaster and his cohorts have made my life a living hell."

Chris stiffened at the character assassination not sure what was driving this sudden animosity. He'd never seen Ezra so heated, the man was usually unflappable.

"Well, I think we can accommodate ya, especially since you assaulted a lawman." Kane chuckled as he forced Ezra out the door.

**M7M7M7M7M**

Standish stumbled into the jailhouse with a little help from Mitch. He looked to the right to see Tom, holding a cloth to his throbbing head. The young deputy stood up his hand falling to his side; a bruised and swollen impression of the cell bar ran across his forehead.

Ezra tried to flash the young man an apologetic smile as Mitch shoved him towards his cell. He snapped around and glared at the deputy. "Are you going to remove these restraints?"

"Nope, figure you won't be escapin' again without the use of your hands," Mitch shoved Ezra to the back of the cell as Kane stepped up to the bars silently counting the wanted posters gripped in his hand, having noticed them scatted on the desk.

Kane smiled and looked up at Ezra. "Mr. Standish, there only twenty-three posters here. I had twenty-four."

"You must have miscounted." Ezra was starting to feel like he was holding a losing hand.

"You protectin' someone?" Kane pleasantly asked, pacing in front of the cell like a lion sizing up its prey.

Ezra snorted. He was just apprehended by a man he had come to respect and trust. Did the sheriff believe he held any regard for anyone in this wretched town? "I assure you, sir, I protect no one but myself. Ask anyone in town what a self-serving bastard I am." The words belied the feelings that strangled his heart.

"Mitch, Tom, search him, and you don't need to be gentle."

Both deputies entered the small cell. Tom glared hard at the gambler. "I owe you one," he snarled as he unlocked Ezra's cuffs and pulled off his jacket. He snapped the cuffs back on, squeezing them even tighter and smiled as Ezra hissed from the discomfort.

Mitch tore the bedding from the cot as Tom went through the pockets of the tailored jacket, throwing it aside when he failed to find anything. Ezra stood in the corner of his cell, his jaw clenched.

"Nothing!" Mitch announced after tearing apart the cell and half the jail. "Maybe he hid it in the stable?"

Kane eyed the red jacket on the floor and picked it up. "I don't think Mr. Standish had time to dispose of it."

"Then what did he do with it?" Mitch asked.

Kane ran his hands up and down the inside lining until he heard the crunch of paper within the folds of the jacket. Ezra watched as the sheriff pulled out a knife and began slicing the inside of the jacket.

"Sir, I hope you plan on compensating me for damaging my property," Ezra calmly stated even as his heart beat soundly in his chest.

Kane's fleshy face broke out in a toothy grin when he found the poster. "Well, well...Lookie what I found." He looked at the picture. "Vin Tanner wanted for murder in Tacosa. $500 reward dead or alive."

Mitch and Tom stepped around and looked over the sheriff's shoulder. "Hey, I think I saw that man in the saloon when we arrested Standish."

"Really?" Kane stared intently at the picture.

"I didn't pay much attention," Mitch added. "But there was a man with long hair, wearing buckskins, sitting at a corner table. I didn't get a good look at his face."

Kane brought his gaze up and stared intently at Standish who seemed unconcerned.

"You a friend of this Vin Tanner?" Kane prodded, waving the placard in front of him.

"Never heard of him."

"Why'd you take the poster?"

"Five hundred dollars is a good enough reason," Ezra easily explained.

"Perhaps." Kane scratched at his face and picked up the remainder of the posters. "You understand the money's not important to me."

Ezra arched an expressive eyebrow.

"This stack of posters represents a lifelong endeavor of becoming the most famous lawman in the territory. I go after bounties of five-hundred dollars or more, only the most notorious of men earn my attention." Kane's eyes brightened. "I started out with forty-seven. Capturing someone of Tanner's notoriety would definitely go far in accomplishing my goal."

Ezra felt his heart thump hard against his chest. There was nothing worse than a supposedly noble endeavor perpetrated by a less than ethical person. Why did these things always happen to him? He had been trying to protect Vin, but instead, he may have deposited the unassuming tracker right into the sheriff's lap.

"Boys, I think Mr. Standish needs to be convinced into helping us," Kane said as he moved aside to allow his deputies to once again enter the small cell.

The deputies' mouths twitched into crooked smiles at the challenge as they moved into Ezra's cell. Ezra wiggled his fingers in an attempt to end the tingling due to a lack of circulation. Things were about to turn ugly.

Kane rested a rear cheek on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm going to ask again Mr. Standish, where can I find Vin Tanner?"

Ezra's ever-present smile graced his clean-shaven dimpled face as he stated, "Sir I have no idea." This response earned him a vicious double blow to the abdomen. The air forcibly whooshed from his lungs and he doubled up fighting for breath, his balanced hindered he fell back onto his cot still gasping. Mitch hauled him to his feet, Ezra could not get his legs to respond to the simple order to stand. Mitch pulled the gambler up. "Ay, Tommy boy, bet you want a crack at 'em?" The large deputy moved behind Ezra and interlocked his arms behind Ezra's restrained arms.

"Oh Yeah." Tom stepped up rubbing his right-hand knuckles with his left before he let loose with a series of vicious strikes at the conman's face.

Ezra's head snapped around spraying blood from his mouth as pain exploded inside his jaw, blood filled his mouth and drooled from the corners of his lips. Ezra's ears rang and he felt himself slipping towards the ground. He could not get his eyes to focus readily. Hands hauled him back to his feet but his knees were like water and would not support his weight, as the world spun out of control.

Mitch held the gambler as Tom continued to pummel the hapless man, each punch coming with added glee. This man was responsible for making a fool out of him in front of the one man he admired. Tom knew Sheriff Kane didn't blame him, but he probably wondered if the young man could handle the job. Mitch released Ezra, allowing him to crumble to the floor, gasping for the air his lungs were denied. He lay on the rough floor in a fetal position every gasp bringing on clutches of pain in his stomach.

Kane knelt down next to the battered conman. "I'm getting tired of this game. Where is Tanner?" The older man wrenched Ezra's head up by his shortly cropped brown hair. A crooked smile etched the gambler's battered features, "And I'm tired of telling you," Ezra breathed, "I don't know where he is or who he is?"

"I am getting tired of this," Kane growled letting Ezra's head fall to the floor.

Through swollen cut lips with blood drooling from his mouth the gambler smiled, "You and me both." Again the Sheriff grabbed the younger man's now bruised jaw, "Then tell me where he is." Kane knew he would not get his answer, Ezra confirmed it when he smiled, closed his eyes and shook his head 'no.' "Loosen his tongue."

"It's my turn now." Mitch pulled back his foot and drove it into Ezra's ribs causing him to tighten up into a smaller ball. Mitch continued to lash out with his boot. After one particular savage blow to the ribs, he cried out as a rib or two gave way. Blood continued flowed freely from his nose and mouth. He tried to curl into a fetal position anything to protect his ribs and face but his back took blows just as easily.

Tom winced at the sound of a rib-cracking under the barrage. A wave of regret surged through him. He looked over his shoulder at the sheriff who sat on the desk watching the whole thing in detached silence.

Ezra's consciousness left him in a brilliant explosion of color, he never felt the boot that connected with his head.

**M7M7M7M7M**

Tom and Mitch stepped over the inert and bleeding gambler and moved out of the cell, locking it as they left, not that it was necessary. The conman wouldn't be movin' anytime soon.

"He still alive?" Kane asked not looking up from the face on the poster, searing the sketchy features into his memory. He didn't remember seeing anyone in buckskins, but his attention had been on Standish and the darkly dressed gunslinger. Now he wondered if that was Larabee's intention all along. He trusted his deputies though and Standish's actions only strengthen the belief that Vin Tanner was somewhere in the vicinity. As a con man and gambler Standish should of held allegiance to no one but himself, but apparently he read the gambler wrong.

"Yeah," Mitch replied.

"Good." Kane looked up and scratched at the two-day growth of beard on his face.

"What'cha thinkin', boss?" Tom asked pulling up a chair. He rubbed at his abraded knuckles.

"Well, we need to find out if this Tanner fella is still around," Kane answered leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head.

"How we going to do that?" Mitch asked.

Kane stared at the motionless gambler. "Maybe we need to find out how Larabee really feels about his men."

**M7M7M7M7**

A bad feeling had settled into Larabee's soul and plagued him as he walked down the boardwalk. Thoughts clamored for attention leading him to distraction, a feeling he wasn't comfortable with. Something didn't sit right. Why would Ezra try to escape? The worst that would happen is he'd spend a few days in the saddle until the judge was able to validate his pardon. His escape attempt and assault just made things worse. Standish never came across as stupid-arrogant and self-serving, but not stupid. Chris still couldn't believe that he had drawn on the southerner. He could still see Ezra's shocked expression. Why did he always let his temper dictate his actions when it came to the gambler?

Vin had watched from his spot on the roof of the saloon as the sheriff led the gambler back to jail. He knew the others still harbored reservations about the crafty conman, believing he kept a hidden agenda, and if things got tough he'd leave. What Vin noticed that the others apparently missed was that over the past three weeks Ezra was changing. It was subtle, like a winding river changing its course, eating away a new path. Ezra probably didn't even notice or would never admit to it.

Chris leaned easily against a support post, staring intently at the jailhouse across the street. He pulled a cheroot from his pocket and bit down on the end. The creak of the saloon doors and the sound of several boots signaled the end of his solitary musings.

"Ay, pard," Buck said laying a hand on Chris' shoulder. He felt the gunslinger's muscles tense.

"He tried to escape," Chris tersely stated.

"He what?" JD exclaimed coming up from behind Buck.

Nathan snorted in disgust and sat down in one of the chairs. His tight-lipped smile showed this was something he expected from the ambiguous cardshark. A leopard never changes his spots.

Chris turned to his friends. "He struck one of the deputies. I caught him in the stables trying to make a break for it."

"Doesn't he trust us to get him out of this?" Buck asked with real asperity in his voice. When would Ezra give them a chance? Maybe never. Maybe it just wasn't in the southerner's nature to trust anyone but himself. These thoughts rushed through the mustached cowboy's mind and diluted his growing anger.

"So what do we do now?" Vin's Texas drawl wafted out from just inside the saloon. He was getting tired of staying hidden.

"Nothing's changed," Chris replied. "It just might make things more difficult for Ezra when he reaches Fort Laramie. I'll talk with the judge and see what we can do." Chris didn't mention that things had indeed changed. He had pulled his gun on one of his own men.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

******Part 6**

The next morning Chris exited the restaurant to find Sheriff Kane leaning against the railing, waiting.

"Sheriff, can I help ya?" Chris asked. He couldn't explain why, but he was beginning to dislike this man.

"I hope you can, Mr. Larabee," Kane said seriously. "It would save us all a great deal of trouble." Kane pushed off the railing and pulled out the folded poster of Vin, holding it up to Chris' face. "Do you know this man?"

Chris stared impassively at the face of his friend for a moment and then coolly replied, "Nope."

Kane raised a thick, dark eyebrow and lowered the poster. He couldn't tell if the gunslinger was lying or not. "I believe he might have been in your saloon the other day when we arrested Mr. Standish."

Chris shrugged. "Lots of people come and go in this town, don't notice everyone, especially if he ain't causin' any reason to be noticed."

"Funny." Kane carefully folded the poster and put it back in his pocket. "Your man Standish found him interestin' enough. He tried to make off with his poster last night."

Chris flinched. Kane's eyes crinkled as a smile stretched across his face. "Of course, he claimed that he was only after the reward."

"Well, that's Ezra's business," Chris responded, his dislike for the sheriff on the road to complete loathing.

"Mr. Larabee, I'm not a fool, and you don't strike me as a man who misses much that goes on in his town. I doubt a flea could annoy a dog without you knowing it. Now, we're both men of the law." Kane felt the sudden need to remind the gunslinger of this. "I believe that this Vin Tanner is in the area and together I think we can flush him out."

Chris' fists clenched at his side and he spared a glance over towards the jail before returning his attention to the irritating Sheriff. "As I said I ain't seen 'im, and I have no interest in the bounty money." Chris turned on his heel and walked away.

Sheriff Kane watched as Larabee crossed the street, heading for the saloon. He released a tired breath trying to shake off Larabee's intimidating authority. He believed that Larabee wasn't being entirely truthful, maybe Standish and Him wanted the Bounty all to themselves or maybe they were protecting Tanner. One way or another Kane was going to get to the heart of the matter.

**M7M7M7M7**

Ezra began, quite painfully, to come around. His first sensation was an incessant pounding in his head and the cold, hard feeling on his cheek. He slowly opened his eyes, but couldn't make sense of what he was looking at. His vision swam in and out of focus and he closed his eyes as bile rose up in his throat. He was on his side and tried to roll over only to gasp at the burning pain that ran up his arms. His hands were still cuffed behind him. Ezra sucked in his breath and opened his eyes.

"Well, well! Sleeping beauty awakes."

Ezra turned his head slightly, enough to make out the form of Mitch Peters squatting in front of the bars with an asinine smile on his face.

"Thought I mighta hit ya too hard there," Mitch chuckled and stood up.

Ezra struggled into a sitting position and leaned his head against the cot. His arms ached from being in the same position for so long. Thunderous waves of pain surged through his head and his whole body throbbed. It was difficult to take a deep breath. Ezra looked over to see Sheriff Kane sitting in a chair a few feet away.

"So, Mr. Standish, I'm going to ask you again," Kane said holding out the wanted poster. "How do you know Vin Tanner and where is he? Is someone protecting him?"

Ezra stared at the older man. Did Kane really think that he would betray one of his fellow lawmen? Well, let the man think what he wanted.

Kane leaned forward, the chair creaking with his shifting weight. He rested his hands on his knees an oily smile appearing on his face. "Listen, we'll cut you in on the reward. It's not like yer plannin' on staying on here."

That hit a chord. Ezra looked into his past and into his heart the two always in conflict. He licked his lips. His throat was parched and he couldn't remember when he had any water. Ignoring the pain in his head and chest, and the numbness of his hands, Ezra struggled to his feet and sat upon the cot. "I'm afraid...I'll have to...decline your cordial offer."

Kane's smile changed, becoming feral and deprecating. He studied the battered conman drumming his fingers on the chair rest.

"Tom, Mitch go out and start talkin' with some of the town's folk. See what you can find out."

The two deputies nodded and left the confines of the jail.

Ezra closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the pain gnawing at him.

**M7M7M7M7**

A little after nightfall, hoping to blanket their activities, the six gunslingers gathered in the church. JD kept an eye out the front door, watching the jailhouse. They were worried. Since Ezra's escape attempt Chris had become even more solemn. He had sent Vin out to his cabin without an explanation, telling him not to return until nightfall. The others were to perform their normal duties. Now, they all were gathered around their leader as he sat, his hands draped over the back of a pew and his head bowed. The single lantern flickered and stretched out their shadows, making it appear as if a panel of dark, disapproving judges surrounded them.

"What do you think happened?" Nathan quietly asked Josiah.

"Don't know, brother, but it must be somethin' powerful troubling to put our brother in such a state." Chris had barely spoken to any of them all day preferring to keep his own console.

"You know, them two deputies been askin' about Vin all over town," Buck started, getting uncomfortable with the growing silence.

"Yeah, but no one is sayin' a thing." Nathan smiled. Vin was welled liked and the folks who didn't like him feared Larabee enough to keep their mouths shut.

"Has anyone been allowed to see Ezra?" JD asked from the doorway.

Chris raised his head.

"What do you mean, JD?" Vin asked.

"Well, I tried to take him some food earlier and the deputy wouldn't let me see him. Told me he wasn't allowed any visitors 'cause of his escape attempt."

Chris turned around and looked at the five men whom he had come to trust and care about. They were becoming a family. Was Ezra part of that family?

"Vin, the sheriff's got your poster," Chris abruptly stated.

"Damn," Buck muttered.

"I think you should get out of town for a while," Chris continued. "At least until the sheriff and his deputies leave."

Chagrin flickered across the tracker's chiseled features. "I can keep a low profile, cowboy. I don't want t'leave with Ez still in trouble." Vin was feeling more and more responsible, he was always worried that his past would catch up with him, now he was worried it would sever the connection they were all feeling.

"Are you goin' to let them take Ezra?" Buck asked, looking directly at Chris.

Larabee exhaled, grateful for the dimness of the church. "Hopefully our wire will reach the judge before they leave. If not, Ezra will be making the trip to Fort Laramie," Chris firmly stated although guilt caused his gut to clench. "We can't take the chance of delaying them and risk the sheriff spotting Vin. The sooner they leave the better."

"Doesn't feel right lettin' them take Ezra like that," Buck commented.

Everyone was quiet for a moment trying to shake off the tendrils of uneasiness that slowly crept through them.

"Ezra will be fine," JD piped in from his spot by the door trying to relieve the tension. "He'll just be without his feather bed for a few days."

"It'll serve him right," Nathan snapped. "The sheriff wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. Maybe this'll teach him not to con."

"Yeah, but he's innocent of this con," Vin said.

"Are we sure about that?" Nathan asked trying to retain some measure of disgust toward the cardshark. If he didn't stay angry worry would overwhelm him. "He did try an escape."

"It was the judge's fault," Buck defended. "He should have wired Fort Laramie and told 'em he pardoned Ezra."

"There's no one to blame," Chris hotly retorted. "And Ezra doesn't deserve this." His anger shocked the four men.

"What is it, cowboy?" Vin quietly asked, dread weighing on his heart.

Chris' shoulders slumped his face haggard in the golden light. "Ezra took your poster last night when he tried to escape."

It was like an electric shock passing through each of the men.

"Aw hell, he was tryin' to protect Vin." Buck roughly pulled his hat off and ran his hand through his dark hair.

"He was probably hopin' they'd chase after him," Vin added. "Get them out of town.

"Damn southern fool, always surprising me," Nathan sadly stated losing his battle over his growing worry.

Chris nodded, guilt quieting him.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

******Part 7**

Ezra opened bloodshot eyes when he heard Tom and Mitch enter the jail. He had hardly slept, no matter what position he tried he couldn't find one that wasn't painful. He ended up sitting on the cot with his back against the wall. A sheen of sweat covered his face and he felt the dampness through his shirt. A chill chased itself through his body. His hands were cold, making it impossible to pick the lock on his cuffs.

"Ay, boys, what'cha find out?" Kane asked his two deputies.

"Nothing, boss." Mitch was angry and kicked at a chair. "No one in this town knows anything about a Vin Tanner. Either we're wrong or these people are protectin' him."

"No, we're not wrong," Kane confidently replied.

"Had a lot to say about that gambling fella though," Tom stated.

"Really?"

"Some folks even hinted that they would be very happy when we take him away. They didn't think he was worth even the dollar a day he made," Mitch added.

Kane looked over at their prisoner. Ezra was flushed with fever and glared at them through vibrant green eyes. He had listened to the man's restless groans and found himself enjoying the cardshark's discomfort. Standish had ruined his reputation back in Laramie. Folks still snickered and joked behind his back at how he'd let a flashy conman escape.

Kane guffawed. This town would protect a murderer but would throw a conman to the wolves.

"Well, they leave me no choice then." Kane casually removed his Colt from its holster and walked up to the cell. "We're going to have to light a fire under Mr. Larabee."

He leveled his gun, giving the gambler credit for not flinching or even begging for mercy. Apparently, Mr. Standish was made of sterner stuff than most gamblers he'd known. "I guess we're going to find out how much you mean to Mr. Larabee."

Ezra's eyes widened. He had time to bite down to keep from screaming, and then he felt a searing red-hot pain streak down his leg. The pain doubled him over and he fell to the floor in a tortured heap.

**M7M7M7M **

Vin paced in Ezra's room, barely hearing the diluted noise from the saloon below. He wondered how Ezra could stand the confines of the four walls. The room was sparsely furnished, mostly dominated by a huge feathered bed, which Vin had to admit was quite comfortable. It still felt like a cage and he hoped that the sheriff left soon or he would have to leave for a spell.

A soft knock on the door announced Buck's grinning visage. "Ay pard, how you doing? Brought you some grub." Buck stepped in carrying a tray. Chris followed moments later, checking to be sure that no one was watching him enter.

"Ms. Wells fixed you up a nice meal," Buck said setting the tray down on the dresser.

Vin's mouth watered at the smell of fresh bread and homemade jam. He lifted the napkin that covered the food and his stomach rumbled. Vin grabbed the slice of peach pie first.

"Ay, pard, didn't your ma ever teach you to save your dessert for last?"

Vin smiled through his mouth full of pie. "Nope." He swallowed the bite and turned to Chris. "Any word from the judge."

Chris shook his head. "No, not yet." He moved the saddlebags from the chair next to the door and laid them aside as he took a seat. "JD sent the wires again if we don't hear somethin' soon I'm going to send Buck and Josiah out to find him."

Chris, Vin, and Buck were at the window before the echo of the gunshot died.

"It came from the jail," Vin answered wiping his mouth with his sleeve and laying his hand on his mare's leg.

"Vin, you stay here," Chris stated, checking his gun and glancing at Buck before they raced out of the room. Vin clenched and unclenched his hand that was wrapped around his gun. _God, he hated this!_

Chris and Buck met the others just outside the saloon. The five gunslingers stared at the jailhouse. It was quiet, the whole town suddenly felt strangely silent, like a ghost town.

"What do you think happened?" JD whispered. "There was only one shot."

Chris stepped off the boardwalk and started walking toward the jail, his blue eyes scanning the area, looking for any hidden danger. Just as the five men neared the jailhouse Kane pulled open the door and stepped out.

"Gentlemen, everything is under control," Kane assured holding up his hands.

"We heard a gunshot," Buck stated.

"Yes, just something to get your attention."

The five lawmen regarded each other with mixtures of confusion and fear. What was going on?

"Is Ezra okay?" Josiah asked.

"As I said there's no need for concern."

This did not appease the preacher and he stepped forward only to have Nathan halt his progress when Tom appeared, rifle in hand to stand next to the sheriff.

"Mr. Larabee, I need to speak with you privately," Kane said turning sideways in the door and sweeping his arm across his body in invitation.

Buck grabbed Chris' arm and leaned over to him. "Chris, I don't like this."

"Let me see what's going on." Chris walked up to the jail and past the sheriff.

**M7M7M7M7**

Chris' heart dropped into his stomach when he entered the jailhouse to see Ezra laying on the floor of his cell, unmoving, a bullet hole in his upper leg bleeding profusely. Mitch sat on the floor outside the cell, his gun loosely held in his hand. Ezra's face was bruised and bloodied and he seemed to be having trouble drawing a decent breath. No one was helping and the blood continued to pool underneath him.

Chris started toward Ezra until Tom blocked his progress with a gun aimed at his heart.

"What the hell is going on?" Chris snapped.

Kane smiled, easing his mass into the chair behind the desk. "Well, Mr. Standish tried to escape again and we had to shoot him."

Chris glared at the sheriff not buying the story for a moment.

Kane's smile grew and infuriated the gunslinger more. "That's my story and I'm sticking with it," Kane quipped as he motioned towards his two deputies. "I have two witnesses."

"What do you want?" Chris asked, keeping his voice low and even.

Kane smoothed out the familiar poster that lay on his desk. Chris glanced down at the face of his friend; then shifted his gaze back to Ezra. Kane followed the gunslinger's gaze glad to see the worry in the blond gunslinger's face. He wasn't sure this would work. He didn't know what the cardsharp meant to this man.

"What's Ezra got to do with this Vin Tanner?" Chris asked.

"I have a problem that I think you can help solve. We're both smart men who uphold the law, but I realize that in certain situations, for whatever reason a man sometimes has to be forced into doing what's right."

Ezra was barely conscious and fighting to control the waves of agony that assaulted his senses and his growing weakness. He heard Chris' voice and tried to concentrate on what was being said.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning," Kane calmly said.

"What about Ezra?" Chris asked, bringing his icy gaze upon the sheriff.

"Oh, he's coming with us, just as he is. It's a long way back to Fort Laramie, and well, if Mr. Standish doesn't make it..." The words fell off as Kane's smile grew, scrunching up his eyes.

"Now, maybe, if you could offer me a distraction, say someone I need to take to Tacosa..." Kane patted the poster in front of him. "I might be of a mind to just forget Mr. Standish."

Chris stared back at Ezra.

"He ain't goin' to last much longer if'n you don't stop that bleeding," Chris said as he watched the pool of blood slowly grow around the conman.

Kane glanced over at Ezra. "He'll last long enough," he quipped and looked back over at Larabee. "Your answer, Mr. Larabee?"

Chris took a deep breath and turned to face the devious and ruthless sheriff. "You can go to hell. I already told you, I don't know Vin Tanner and even if I did I wouldn't hand him over to you."

Ezra opened his eyes and smiled as he looked up at Chris. He was responsible for this. If anything happened to Vin he'd never forgive himself and he doubted the others would either.

Chris glanced over to see Ezra looking at him with approval. He could tell that he was just barely hanging on. He had put Ezra in this position. He should have let him escape. Chris tried to reassure the injured man with a look but knew he wasn't pulling it off very well.

Kane shrugged. "Oh well, either way, I'm taking someone in. Tom, go and tie off that wound, but that's all." Kane glared at Chris. "You have till tomorrow to change your mind."

"You're not going to get away with this," Chris growled.

"Oh, I think I will. It's our word against the word of a hired gun who is harboring a wanted man. Mr. Standish is legally wanted, and he tried to escape and assaulted one of my deputies," Kane stressed. "The people of Fort Laramie won't care if I bring in a dead fugitive. It'll save them the time and cost of a trial."

Ezra tried to move back when Tom entered the cell. The deputy grasped his injured leg and wrapped a bandana tightly around the bullet wound and tied it with a brutal yank. Ezra's back arched over his cuffed wrists and he rolled to his side. Chris balled his fists and stepped toward the cell, stopping when he saw Mitch cock his gun and take aim at Ezra's head.

"You'll never make it, Larabee." Kane sat back watching the surge of emotions ripple across the gunslinger's face.

Chris gave one last glance at Ezra, turned and stalked out the door. Tom stepped up to the doorway watching the gunslinger storm across the street his black duster flapping behind him.

"Mr. Larabee will never trade my loathsome life for another," Ezra gasped.

Kane frowned. He really didn't want to drag Standish all the way back to Laramie. Tanner was a much bigger fish and one who would greatly further his agenda. He was betting on Larabee's loyalty to his men. He knew men who worked together sometimes developed more than a passing alliance, especially in jobs where your life depended on another's trust.

"You better hope you're wrong, Mr. Standish."

**M7M7M7M7**

Chris cut a heated swathe through the icy air as he exited the jail, his angered strides kicking out his black duster. No one said a word as they fell in behind him. They entered the saloon and Vin, who had his mare's leg ready, met them.

"What the hell is going on?" Buck yelled out after checking to be sure that the saloon was empty. He watched as Chris went up to the bar and stopped, his shoulders heaving.

"Kane shot Ezra!" Chris blurted out, turning around to face his men.

"He shot Ezra! Is he alright?" Nathan was the first to ask.

Chris remained silent his gaze distant.

"Dammit, Chris, what the hell is going on?" Buck demanded again. Chris' eyes focused on his friend, and Buck saw the turmoil within those icy orbs and fear strangled his heart.

"Kane plans to leave for Fort Laramie in the morning," Chris explained.

"Shouldn't I go over there and take care of Ezra?" Nathan asked. He didn't understand. Why wouldn't Chris have him tend to the southerner? Sure, they had their differences, but Nathan never wished any harm on the arrogant conman. Maybe Ezra didn't want his help.

"Kane won't let you. He wants Vin." Chris looked over at the tracker. Vin met his friend's regretful gaze. "He won't let anyone help Ezra until Vin turns himself in."

"Ah shit, how bad is he?" JD asked his eyes wide in disbelief.

Chris removed his hat and wished for a whiskey. "Bad, looks like they beat him some too. He lost a lot of blood."

"He'll never make it to Laramie," Buck quietly commented.

"I think that's the general idea," Chris answered.

"I can't let Ezra die because of me," Vin stated.

"Vin, you're innocent," JD replied.

"So's Ezra," Josiah countered.

"I don't know I bet there's something in his past..." Nathan absently spoke, instantly regretting the slander as he suddenly found himself the center of everyone's irritated glares. "Sorry, but Vin will hang if he turns himself in." He tried to defend.

Vin glared at the healer. He knew Nathan had a hard time with Ezra's way of life, but sometimes the moral healer could be so damn mule-headed and self-righteous he wanted to slap him upside the head. "We all have things in our past we're not proud of, Nathan. Y'all think Ezra deserves this more than I do? Just 'cause I'm innocent of one killing..."

This brought a ripple of guilt causing heads to bow and eyes to shift.

"It's just that Ezra sometimes would rather hide his good qualities," JD warily added in way of justification. He liked the wily cardshark and knew he was a good man, but he also liked Vin. How could they surrender one for another?

"Unless you count his gift of gab," Buck quipped.

"Sometimes a man's talent can be a double-edged sword," Josiah said.

Vin shook his head. They hadn't seen it. Maybe it was his mother's sensitivity that allowed him to perceive what people were really like and enabled him to learn what was underneath Ezra's protective shell.

"I know we've only known him a few weeks." Vin's voice was meditative, seeming to concentrate on what he was going to say. "I'll be the first to admit the man's a hard person to get to know, but I have learned one thing. Except for maybe Nathan, whenever we all git in a situation, the first thing we do is go for our guns. It's second nature to us."

Everyone paused and thought for a moment then nodded in agreement.

"We all know Ezra is good with a gun but whenever he gets in trouble the first thing he does is try and talk his way out. There's a lot to be said for a man who doesn't always deal with a situation with a gun in his hand."

"That same smooth talkin' is what got him in this position," Buck stated without rancor.

Josiah chuckled. "True, but what Vin says has a lot of merit. I believe Ezra's questionable traits hide a great many redeeming qualities."

"Still, I can't let Vin give up his life," Chris said.

"I don't think we have any choice cowboy," Vin replied.

"Yeah, those ain't some no-account outlaws that we can just go over and shoot. That's a reputable sheriff and his deputies," Buck added.

JD snorted at the use of the word reputable.

"That's why what I'm about to ask you shouldn't be taken lightly." Chris looked at each of his men before he continued, "We can't let them take Ezra. He'll die out on the trail. Even if one of us was to follow I don't think Kane or his men would let us get close," Chris paused and took a deep breath. "Tomorrow morning I'm going to be in front of the jail."

"Chris, no." Buck's eyes went wide at what his friend was saying.

"I'm with ya, pard," Vin concurred. "Hell, I'm already wanted, might as well make it fer something I really did. Ezra deserves a chance."

Chris smiled. He knew Vin would be at his side forever.

"There won't be any hard feelings if'n anyone doesn't want to be involved." Chris looked over at JD. "JD, you're too young and the town will still need a sheriff. I would favor you stay out of this." He then turned his attention to Nathan. He knew that there was no love between the ex-slave and southerner. He gave Nathan his out. "Nathan, your healin' is needed in this town, you should stay."

No one said a word. Chris glanced over at the others, men he had come to trust and who he was asking to give up a life they'd all come to cherish. Was it asking too much? Maybe, but Ezra was part of this family and Chris would not let him fall.

"Anyone who wants to do this be here before dawn with your bags packed."

"Chris, you do know what you're askin'?" Buck asked.

"Yep, that's why I want you all to think long and hard before you make a decision. Chances are, people are goin' to die and we'll no longer be lawmen. We'll be outlaws."

The six men furtively left the saloon to seek out their own private solace, to make a decision that would irrevocably change their lives. It was a decision they could only make within themselves.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

******Part 8**

Josiah lifted his eyes off the bible he was reading to see Nathan walking up the aisle of the church. The healer's hand lazily swept over the tops of the pews admiring the craftmanship that Josiah had put in to restoring them. When he reached the front, he tiredly sat down his fingers now fidgeting with the brim of his hat. The thoughts and rebuttals that swirled through his head kept his fingers moving.

Josiah waited patiently for his friend, knowing Nathan was having a hard time coming to a decision. He slowly closed the bible resting his hand on the smooth leather cover. He was trying to find his own answers. He finally stepped down from the altar and sat down next to his long-time friend. He owed Nathan his life, but he owed Ezra and the others more-his soul.

"Is it worth becoming wanted men and losing everything we've gained?" Nathan quietly asked, almost ashamed. "We hardly know him."

"No one but you can answer that and we hardly know any of them, yet we all seemed to have found something…." Josiah musings quieted.

Nathan looked at the former preacher. "What are you going to do?"

Josiah looked up at the roughly carved cross that sat upon the altar, his gray-blue eyes shining like a man half his age. "I think you know."

Nathan nodded. He didn't want to lose the family he had acquired and Ezra was part of that family, good or bad. They had been through a lot together and there were times when Nathan thought maybe he could find some measure of commonality with the suave southerner, he at least wanted the chance to try.

**M7M7M7M7**

"Damn." The whispered curse brought a smile to the tracker's face. He turned his head to see Buck's dark form trying to traverse the slanted roof. The cowboy's bulk worked against him. Vin and Ezra's slighter frames gave them cat-like grace and surefootedness and made the roof an ideal place to escape. Vin had only discovered this idyllic and lofty hide-away when he had to find Ezra. It took the better part of a day to finally locate the missing gambler, relaxing on the rooftop just outside his window.

"Watch out for loose tiles," Vin helpfully warned, listening to Buck's scraping boots and muttered curses. He turned his face back toward the star-studded night watching as heavy clouds occasionally blotted out a cluster of the sparkling lights.

"I don't know how you and Ez can do this," Buck stated as he cautiously sat down next to his friend. He was glad it was too dark to see the ground.

Buck took a deep breath then looked out over the street at the faint glow coming from the jail.

"Haven't seen Ezra's head in the window all night," Vin morosely informed.

The others still couldn't believe that Ezra was actually trying to protect him, but Vin wasn't surprised. He was learning that the conman had more layers than an onion, and just when you thought you were reaching the heart, another layer was revealed.

"Make your decision?" Vin asked, looking over at the ladies man.

It was a moment before Buck answered. "Yep. Been followin' Chris most of my life, too old to stop now." Buck turned his head in Vin's direction even though he could barely see the longhaired tracker. "Sort of was getting use to this place, probably a good thing to move on." Vin heard the sadness as much as Buck felt it. Both men knew they had found a home here, but Ezra was part of their family and they would not let him down.

"What about JD?"

Vin grinned at Buck's exasperated sigh. "I'm tempted to knock his fool ass out and tie him up somewhere till this is over. He's too young to be wanted." Buck glanced over at the buckskin tracker. Vin was too young too, hell they all were.

"He'd hate ya for it."

"Yeah, I know, but it might be worth it." The thought of JD being wanted didn't sit right with the gregarious cowboy, but then the thought that he'd never see his young friend again didn't sit right either.

"I'm tempted to just go over there and give myself up," Vin stated.

"Then we'd just have to break both of you out," Buck said without hesitation. He heard the soft chuckle. The two men continue to sit in companionable silence wondering if this could be the last time any of them were together again.

JD steadily brushed his horse, relying on his familiarity with the stable to get around, having not lit any of the lanterns. He didn't want anyone trespassing on his thoughts. His bedroll sat in the corner of the stall along with his saddlebags. He had avoided the others, especially Buck, knowing they would try and to talk him out of coming along. He wanted the decision and consequences to be his own. He knew he wanted to be with the others and he wanted to save Ezra. He liked the conniving cardshark. Ezra treated him like an equal instead of like some greenhorn kid. JD halted his brushing and looked up. His mother would be disappointed. She would not want him throwing away all he had achieved. JD exhaled a quivering breath and a single tear slid down his face. "Sorry, ma," he whispered and began brushing with a vigor he hoped would chase away the fear and doubt.

A calm fell over him and he stopped his grooming and smiled. No, his mother would be proud of him. He was taking a stand willing to risk his life for a friend.

**M7M7M7M7**

Tom stood up from his chair outside the jailhouse and gripped his rifle as the dark healer materialized in front of him. "What'cha you want?" The disgust dripped off the words and Nathan hung his head, wondering how someone so young had developed such hate.

"I want to see Ezra." Nathan held his bag in front of him and kept his hands away from his body.

"Why?" Tom eyed the man suspiciously.

"I'm a healer I want to help him."

Tom's eyes grew wide. Now no one would believe this one, a darkie doctor who actually wanted to help a Reb. A mirthless laugh burst out of the deputy's throat.

Nathan frowned.

"I can't let you in," Tom finally managed to voice.

"Why not?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Sheriff Kane has commandeered this jail and only us and prisoners are allowed inside."

Nathan looked past the deputy knowing that Ezra was probably bleeding to death. "Then arrest me!" Nathan said.

"For what?"

"For this." Nathan balled his fist, jumped up to the first step and swung, connecting with the deputy's jaw and knocking him aside. He went for the door only to be forced back by Sheriff Kane and a gun pointed at his head.

"Mr. Jackson, I commend your loyalty and sense of compassion but that was truly foolhardy."

"Just let me check on him," Nathan pleaded. He forced a long-practiced face of submission to surface, hoping to get the sheriff to show some mercy. Kane stared at the earnest healer. He didn't like what was happening and at times wondered why it had gone this far. He was a lawman and his duty demanded that he bring in desperate men.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson. Mr. Larabee knows what it will take, goodnight." The sheriff disappeared inside as Tom resumed his position in front of the door glaring at the healer.

"You better get your black ass out of my sight," Tom sneered bringing one hand up to rub his jaw.

Nathan matched the deputy's icy stare then turned and disappeared into the dark.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

******Part 9**

Larabee sipped at his coffee as he sat in the darkened saloon. He tried to soak in the feel of the rustic tavern, to fill himself with its ambiance. He wanted to give himself something to hold onto, something to dream about. The people of this town had managed to break through three years of self-pity and grief. The six men he rode with reminded him of what it was like to be a part of something and to care about something. After today, he wondered what his life would be like. Would he go back to his days as a drifter? A shiver went down his spine and some of his coffee slopped over the cup.

Buck and Vin crossed the floor and sat on opposite sides of Chris. "Coffee's still hot," Chris stated.

Vin got up and went to the bar to retrieve the pot and several cups. Chris looked up as Vin placed three extra cups down on the table. "Pretty confident, huh?" Chris chuckled.

"Yep."

The gunslingers' hearts filled with remorse when JD walked into the saloon. The young gunslinger stopped and looked at the three men he most admired. The morning sun was rising, creating an ethereal glow throughout the bar room. JD looked at Buck's forlorn face.

Buck's heart was torn in two. One half wanted the boy not to get involved, and the other half wanted him nearby. Buck figured he could live with half a heart. He forced a smile at his friend and pushed out a nearby chair.

Josiah's expected mass entered, followed shortly afterward by Nathan.

"Hell, someone's goin' to have to patch his sorry ass up," Nathan replied to everyone's disbelief when he entered the saloon.

"So, what's the plan, Chris?" Buck asked, the ladies' man had stayed awake all night trying to come to terms with what was going to happen. In their youth, Chris and him had, at times, skirted that fine line of legal, at times crossing the line ever so slightly only to return to the lawful side always avoiding a posse or hangman. This time they would be crossing that line and completely erasing it, there would be no going back.

"Vin, go to the roof and stay out of sight." Chris raised a hand to curb any arguments. "I'm going to try once more to talk sense into Sheriff Kane." Chris looked over at JD and his heart ached for the young gunslinger. He shifted his gaze to Nathan. "Nathan, what shape can we expect Ezra to be in?"

Nate's brow furrowed. "Blood loss, dehydration, shock, maybe infection if the wound hasn't been tended."

"Ah jeez," Buck murmured.

"Alright, Nathan, when you get a chance get Ezra on a horse and ride out. We'll meet at Squire's Rock. Do what you can for him until we get there."

Nathan nodded.

"Try not to kill anyone but if it comes down to us or them…" Chris left the rest unsaid. "We'll head on down to Mexico for a bit. If no one gits killed, maybe we'll be able to come back later."

"What if we do…" JD cleared his throat. "You know…kill one of them?"

Chris bowed his head.

"We learn to speak Spanish kid." Vin rested a hand on the young gunslinger's shoulders and looked towards Chris. "We're goin' to 'ave to split up. Seven men together are too visible."

"I know," Chris replied. "As soon as we fix Ezra up, we'll split off and go our separate ways for a while."

Sadness enveloped the six men like a funeral procession marching through their hearts. This was how it was going to end, with them becoming outlaws to save one of their own.

Chris picked up his hat and rose from his chair. "Everyone ready?" The others all stood ready to follow him to hell and back. Chris checked his gun and then holstered it, knowing there wasn't any going back from this.

"May God ride with us all," Josiah cited.

"Amen," Buck murmured and followed Chris out the door.

**M7M7M7M7**

Vin stole up the back stairs and onto the roof of the saloon. The morning dawn bathed the street in golden rays. He looked up and down the familiar street knowing that soon nothing would look the same.

Chris and the others strode together toward the jail, stopping in the middle of the street. JD wiped his palms down his jacket and jumped when Buck's hand grasped and squeezed his shoulder. It was early enough that the town was still quiet, a few folks glanced at the five gunslingers and immediately headed for cover familiar with the aura of an approaching gunfight.

The door to the jail opened and Kane stepped out. He stared at the five men spread out in the street their hands resting on their guns. He obviously misjudged Larabee's sense of justice and his feelings toward the gambler.

Tom and Mitch came out dragging Ezra between them.

"Shit," Buck whispered as he looked at the limp form held up by the deputies. JD hissed and Josiah mumbled a prayer of retribution.

Chris' jaw clenched at the condition of the gambler. Why hadn't he trusted him? Ezra's right pant leg was soaked dark red. No one could see Ezra's face as his chin rested on his chest.

Tom paled at the sight of the five gunslingers. He thought they would just let them ride out with the gambler. Maybe they were bluffing. Tom met Larabee's stare and knew this was not a bluff. People were going to die today.

Nathan's brow furrowed at the sight of the southerner. He barely looked alive.

"Mr. Larabee, I hope you know what you are doing? We are officers of the law," Kane stated, trying to hold back his growing fear. He didn't think that Larabee and his men would take it this far.

"Let Nathan tend to Ezra and this can all be avoided," Chris firmly stated, pulling back the corner of his duster revealing his gun. If Kane would let Nathan tend to Ezra he would allow Kane to take Ezra, although he'd have a couple of shadows all the way to Fort Laramie.

"Sorry, not until I get Vin Tanner," Kane stressed.

"That ain't goin' to happen," Chris confidently replied.

Kane rested his hand on his gun hoping to show them that he was not going to back down.

"You know, sir, I ain't so sure that was Tanner I saw in the saloon," Mitch stammered. He didn't want to die.

"Shut up!" A bunch of no-account hired guns was not going to intimidate him. It would ruin his reputation. "You would risk your lives for a wanted man and a gambler?" Kane yelled to the five men.

"No," Chris answered. "For a friend."

Vin stared intently at Ezra, trying to see if he was breathing. He exhaled and closed his eyes a moment in thanks when he saw the conman stir.

Ezra's mind rose slowly up to some level of consciousness. His body remained disconnected, although it was beginning to awaken. He felt the deputies holding him up and his arms and shoulders were slowly starting to burn. He opened his eyes and looked at his pants' leg, which was stained dark with blood, and was grateful for the dissociation, for however long it lasted. He heard the sheriff's voice but couldn't make out what he was saying. Chris' distinctive tenor growled in return. Ezra slowly, and with great effort, raised his head. He was able to make out Chris, Buck, JD, Josiah, and Nathan standing in the middle of the street. His brow furrowed wondering what was going on. Ezra watched the sheriff lay his hand on his gun; he then noticed that his friends stood unyielding, prepared for gunplay. What were they doing? This was completely irrational. They were going to risk becoming wanted men or worse, die. For what? For him? Ezra took a deep breath and began to put weight on his good leg.

Chris and the others looked at the pain-filled expression on their friend's face fortifying their resolve. Ezra's dull gaze swept over his friends and his heart filled with respect for their steadfastness. He'd never had anyone go to such extremes for him.

Nathan could tell that Ezra was fighting to stay conscious. How much blood could a man afford to lose? He wondered if all this would be for not. Were they playing a losing hand?

"Mr. Larabee." Ezra's voice was barely above a whisper and trembled with pain. He wished he'd expire at this moment and end this foolishness before it was too late. "Please, don't do this." Ezra collapsed within the deputies' grip the last of his strength deserting him.

Larabee's jaw clenched. He knew men could die today and all their lives would be irrevocably changed.

A bead of sweat ran down between JD's intense eyes as he concentrated on the melodrama in front of him. Hands hovered near revolvers and muscles tensed as eyes narrowed and breathing became shallow, trying to compensate for loud pounding hearts. Everyone waited for someone to make the first move. Seconds ticked by and JD would swear that time froze, and ten men teetered on a void between life and death waiting for someone to make the first move and push them all over the precipice.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

*******Part 10**

A shout and the jarring rattle of a racing stagecoach seemed to appear out of thin air punching a hole in the silent and ultimately deadly performance. JD and the deputies were the only ones to flinch and look towards the stage racing down the street. Only experience and a sense of relief kept anyone from drawing. Horses' whinnied and snorted their annoyance as they were abruptly pulled to a stop just past the jail. The coach door flew open allowing Judge Travis to disembark, holding a shotgun loosely in his arms he marched down the street, stopping in between the two groups of men. Eyeing the situation, he glared at Chris, who only returned the steadfast stare. Travis then turned narrowing eyes towards Sheriff Kane, anger radiated off the Judge in waves and had everyone pulling their hands away from their guns, even Chris and Sheriff Kane felt the palpable intimidation and were impressed. Travis remained silent for a full minute trying to come to terms with what he was witnessing.

"Sheriff Kane, what are your men doing with Mr. Standish?" Travis asked, after quickly taking in the gambler's condition and half wondering if the deputies held a corpse.

"He's under arrest for jumping bail, sir. I'm returning him to Fort Laramie for trial," Kane confidently explained.

"Sheriff Kane, I pardoned this man."

"We didn't receive word." Kane's voice weakened under the Judge's critical scrutiny and sweat beaded upon his forehead.

"Did Sheriff Dunne fail to inform you when you arrived?"

"We told 'im, Judge," JD quickly replied, stepping forward and glaring at the Sheriff.

"He didn't have any papers," Kane interjected. "I…ah...I was afraid he'd run out again."

Travis glowered at the sheriff, getting tired of the excuses. He didn't understand all that was going on but seeing the two groups of supposed lawmen ready for gunplay made him want to lock up the lot of them and throw away the keys. Taking in Standish's condition made him realize why Larabee and his men were prepared for gunplay, and that Kane had a lot of explaining to do. "And why is Mr. Standish in such a state?"

"He struck one of my men and tried to escape."

"He wouldn't 'ave had to escape if'n you didn't arrest him in the first place," Buck defended still ready to shoot their way out.

Josiah quickly stepped forward. "Actually, Judge, Sheriff Kane, and his men were bringing our brother over to the clinic." Josiah threw a smug smile at the sheriff and thought he could almost hear Kane's teeth crack.

"Is this true?"

Kane glared at the ex-preacher and his fists clenched as he reluctantly admitted. "Yes Sir,"

"Well, you better get to it."

Vin breathed a sigh of relief and disappeared from his aerial post.

Kane stepped aside and allowed Tom and Mitch to drag Ezra across the street following the healer toward the clinic. Chris tipped his hat to the judge and quickly followed after the others.

Travis stepped up to within a foot of the sheriff. He would deal with Larabee later, but now he just stood and scowled at Sheriff Kane, causing the veteran lawman to squirm slightly. Before the esteemed magistrate could say anything Kane spoke, "Sir, are you aware that Larabee is harboring a known fugitive?" The judge's face settled into stern lines as Kane shoved the poster into his hands.

"Vin Tanner," Kane pointed out, trying to explain his actions.

The judge inhaled, held it, and then exhaled. His calm demeanor belied the ferocity of his gaze. "Have you seen this Mr. Tanner?"

"Well, no I haven't, but one of my men thinks he saw him in the saloon."

"Thinks," Travis repeated. He leaned in closer to the sheriff. "If this Vin Tanner is around I'm sure Mr. Larabee and his men will take care of him."

Kane's eyebrows lifted as his mouth fell open. "Sir, I don't think…"

"That's right, you didn't think," Travis growled. "And the only reason I'm allowing you to keep your badge is if Mr. Standish dies it might be the only thing that'll save your life. I would advise you to leave immediately."

**M7M7M7M7**

"Lay him on the bed…Gently," Nathan scowled at the two deputies. They immediately complied and then rushed to exit the clinic, hoping to avoid the other gunslingers. Nathan smiled at the sound of two bodies being slammed into the outside wall, numerous times, as the other gunslingers rushed past. The deputies were lucky they weren't near the stairs.

Nathan grabbed a jar off the dresser and tossed it to Josiah. "Put this salve on his wrists."

Nathan pulled open the gambler's shirt and swore at the bruises that covered his torso. "Damn, they must have used him as a punching bag." Nathan lifted an eyelid and then checked his head for injuries. "He has a concussion. Get those clothes off 'im."

Chris walked into the clinic hearing the healer's rapid-fired orders and watching everyone scramble to comply.

"How is he, Nate?"

"Not good," Nathan replied without looking up from his examination. "I'm going to need lots of hot water and another bucket of cold." Buck raced out to fulfill Nathan's orders.

JD gently pulled off the gambler's boots as Nathan cut through the blood-encrusted material of Ezra's pants leg. Everyone gasped at the angry bullet wound.

"Aw hell, the bullet's still in him."

Ezra moaned and tried to pull his leg away from the healer's probing.

"Easy, Ez."

Josiah quickly wrung out a cloth and began wiping the cardshark's face. Ezra's eyes flashed open and panic had him trying to scramble away. Chris quickly moved in to help Nathan and Josiah hold their suddenly animated patient.

"Ezra it's okay now you're safe," Nathan assured.

Ezra's movements stopped as his eyes took in his surroundings, the growing alarm subsiding with the familiar faces surrounding him.

"What happened?" Ezra managed to gasp.

"The Judge arrived," Chris stated with the hint of a smile as he patted Ezra's shoulder.

"Remind me…to thank him…on his impeccable…timing."

"Shush now, save your strength." Nathan slipped his hand under the conman's head and brought a cup of laudanum-laced water to his lips. "You need to drink this. I have to get the bullet out."

Ezra drank the contents of the cup his eyes remaining locked on Chris' form. He still couldn't believe these men had been willing to give their lives for him, it was incomprehensible, irrational, reckless, asinine and utterly astonishing. He couldn't process the feelings churning inside.

Chagrin flickered across Nathan's dark features as he laid Ezra's fever stoked body back onto the pillow. He was so weak.

Vin slipped into the clinic and paled at the sight of his friend. Buck entered carrying a basin of heated water and a pail of cold that he set alongside the bed. "I got more water boiling on the stove downstairs."

Nathan nodded and picked up his scalpel and nodded for Vin and Chris to hold Ezra's upper body. Josiah and Buck moved in to hold his legs. JD grabbed some towels and held them ready for the healer.

Ezra weakly grabbed Nathan's wrist and turned towards Chris.

"Why?" He breathed, fighting the effects of the laudanum. He had to understand.

"You're one of us, Ezra, even if it's only for a few more days. We take care of our own."

'He was one of them?' The concept was overwhelming. Ezra slowly released his grip and sunk back into the pillow.

The healer took a deep breath and checked to make sure that everyone was in place. He then began to cut into the festering wound. Ezra tried to hold in the scream, but his body could no longer take the continued abuse. It was a primal sound that echoed in the room. Ezra fought against the grips of his friends as they added more weight to hold him still. Torrents of pain radiated through his body and the agony was clear on his flushed face as spittle and sweat ran rivulets down his cheeks.

The healer kept his concentration on finding and removing the bullet, but he could feel Ezra trembling and knew that he was in danger of going into shock.

"Hurry Nathan!" Buck grunted, straining to keep the gambler still. JD anxiously mopped up the blood flowing from the wound, already soaking one towel and starting on another. Vin, Chris, and Josiah were practically laying on top of the southerner trying to keep him still.

Chris reached out his hand and rested it on his friend's forehead. Ezra's glazed green eyes tried to focus. "Listen to me Ez, you're going to be fine," Chris spoke in a hoarse whisper. "We don't want you to go. Stay with us, we're a family now."

A shudder ran through Ezra's body and he suddenly fell limp, fear flashed on everyone's face. Nathan continuing probing for the bullet. The sharp knife dug deeper into the wound. JD turned away from the gruesome sight as blood soaked the towel under the gambler's leg. Finally, with a grunt, Nathan pulled the bullet out and quickly pressed a clean cloth to the injury applying all his weight to the wound to try and staunch the flow of blood quickly. He checked Ezra's pulse, finding it beating much too fast. The men relaxed their holds but Nathan shook his head. "Hang on to him. I gotta clean it."

Even unconscious Ezra's body jerked when Nathan applied alcohol to the wound. He pressed JD's hand over the clean cloth that covered the bullet hole and turned aside to thread a tiny needle. His stitches were quick and neat, lacing the laceration and putting a stop to the bleeding.

"We've got to keep him warm and get some water into him," Nathan said as he applied gentle pressure to the wound. Chris handed him more bandages and together they began to wrap the leg. Josiah began stoking the small stove as JD picked up the blood-soaked towels and dumped them into a nearby bucket. Vin pulled out another blanket from the closet and rested it over his friend's chilled body.

"Nathan, is he going to be alright?" Josiah asked as he tried to coax a fire in the small stove.

Everyone's attention turned to their healer.

Nathan swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "I don't know he's hurt bad." Nathan rested a cool cloth on Ezra's forehead.

Buck stared down at Ezra's tortured body. Had Ezra given his life to save Vin? Buck would not let him die in vain.

"C'mon Vin there's something we need to take care of."

Vin followed Buck out without question.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

******Part 11**

Kane had sent his two deputies back to Fort Laramie. He had decided to stay in town for a while. Now, as he watched the tall, mustached cowboy, across the street, from inside the jail, he was glad he did. Wilmington seemed to be waiting for someone. His eyes widen when Buck motioned and someone dressed in buckskins whipped around the corner toward the clinic.

"I gotcha now Tanner." Kane jogged across the street, pulling his gun. His first thought was that Tanner must be going to check on Standish.

Kane kicked in the door of the clinic and was greeted by four guns drawn and aimed directly at him. "You can't hide him now, Larabee. I saw that sonofabitch come up here." Kane tried to look over the wall of shoulders. "Come out Tanner-it's over."

A buckskin-clad man with long hair stepped around from behind the others. Kane's smile dropped along with his gun. The man was at least sixty years old. "Who…who the hell are you?"

"Names Dyson, Larry Dyson. Don't know no Tanner."

Kane glared at the men standing before him and a shudder went down his spine. His eyes met Larabee's icy glare. The sheriff straightened and holstered his gun. "I apologize Mr. Dyson apparently there has been a mistake."

Buck pushed himself forward his face flustered with rage. "Mistake! You call what you did to Ezra a mistake?"

Kane clenched his jaw. "I was within my right. At the time he was a prisoner, and he tried to escape."

"You go ahead and stick to that story if it makes you feel better, but if Ezra dies we're going to have a long talk," Chris calmly stated.

Kane looked over at the pale gambler. He looked as good as dead. His gaze shifted back to the five gunslingers that surrounded him. Kane knew his days as a lawman were over. He turned on his heel and walked out. He was leaving Four Corners, but he wasn't going back to Fort Laramie. That would be the first place Larabee and the others would start searching for him when the conman died.

**M7M7M7M7**

Nathan continued to wipe down the fevered man with cool cloths trying to bring down his growing fever. Vin stood silent sentry at Ezra's side, refusing to leave. Josiah kept watch at the window in case Kane decided to try another surprise visit. He hoped that Buck's ploy had worked and Kane now believed that Vin was never in the area.

JD entered, banging a bucket of freshwater against the doorframe. "Here's some more water, Nate."

"Good, put it over there." Nate looked over at Chris who just stared silently at Ezra from across the room. "He's lost a lot of blood. We have to build him up or he won't have the strength to fight this," Nate answered Chris' silent question.

Ezra groaned and his head rolled to the side. His hands fisted the sheets beneath him. Sweat pooled at the center of his chest and slid to the damp bed as he twisted in pain. Chris stepped up to help Nathan hold up Ezra's head as they coaxed him to drink more honey-laced water.

Chris settled on a chair at the foot of the bed, prepared to stay with his friend. All six of the gunslingers remained at Ezra's side determined to see him through this or be there at the end.

Judge Travis stepped into the clinic prepared to voice his anger with his hired men until he saw the devastation on everyone's faces. He felt the pain of possible loss etched on each of their souls. Funny, he never thought Standish fit in—Travis knew he was witnessing the birth of a family, an unorthodox and disturbingly dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless. Seven men bound together by one destiny.

Chris raised tired eyes. "Judge, we'll all resign if you want us too." He knew the Judge would have every right to fire them, maybe even lock them up. Chris was already prepared to take all the blame, he wouldn't allow any more of his men to be locked up.

Travis released a tired breath, he wouldn't be the one to tear these honorable men apart. He looked at all that Standish had been put through protecting a man he'd known for only a month and hoped Standish wouldn't either. He said a silent prayer for the conman's recovery.

Travis smiled at Chris. "Just don't let it happen again." With that, the esteemed magistrate turned and left taking some of the growing tension of the room with him.

M7M7M7M7

For three days the six gunslingers kept a constant vigil over their gambler, vacillating between the hope that he would recover and the despair of his death. They bathed him constantly, trying to cool the rampant fever and watched as the bruises on his torso began to fade to yellow.

On the morning of the fourth day, Ezra opened his eyes and felt the warmth of a hand wrapped around his own. Josiah was asleep, his head on the open bible that was set on the edge of the bed. Ezra took a minute to breathe and his gaze traveled around the room. He smiled at the five men stretched out in various awkward positions in chairs and on the floor. He had brothers… Sometimes life did work out. Ezra squeezed the preacher's hand.

Josiah lifted his head and studied Ezra's expression. "Brother Ezra," he whispered, a pleased smile lighting up his grey eyes. "Good morning. I'm glad you decided to stay with us." Josiah watched as Ezra's own face lit up.

**M7M7M7M7M7**

Chris and Vin walked side by side down the boardwalk, heading to the saloon. Vin nodded at the figure ahead of them, seated outside the clinic.

The gambler rested in a chair with his feet propped up on a crate a blanket still needed to maintain his body temperature. Most of the bruises had faded, but the pain and blood loss had taken their toll on the once vibrant man. Ezra appeared weak and shaky, but he was slowly recovering. They had almost lost the enigmatic southerner and they still wondered if they were going to lose him.

"So the judge gave you your pardon, right?" Vin asked as he sat down next to his friend. Ezra winced as he shifted his leg and tried to get comfortable.

"And I plan on having it framed and mounted on my wall." Ezra grinned. "I gather you gentlemen are heading to the saloon?" Vin didn't miss the longing lilt to Ezra's question, Nathan had kept him locked away for four days to recover from his ordeal. Vin was sure if it had lasted another day they may be looking for a new healer. Vin didn't think he could of lasted four days locked up in the clinic. Ezra had only gained a small reprieve after promising to follow every order he was allowed to sit outside and maybe be able to sleep in his own bed tonight.

"Yep," Vin answered as he picked up the glass of water and smelled it, making sure the gambler hadn't managed to sneak in any liquor.

Nathan was adamant that Ezra could not have any liquor and he threatened dire consequences to anyone who disobeyed his orders; for some reason the healer focused his threat on Vin and Buck.

Ezra spared a glance up the clinic stairs. "Could you gentlemen find it in your hearts to bring be just a small bit of whiskey?" Ezra flashed his most sincere smile while maintaining his ill appearance.

Chris grinned and shook his head. "Not a chance in hell Standish. I'm not going to have Nathan on my ass."

"Sorry Ez, dire consequences and all…you know," Vin replied.

Ezra's smile vanished and his expression reminded Chris of a scolded schoolboy

Vin glanced over at Chris then back at the healing conman. "So, you plan on stayin' or what?"

"I find my injuries have hampered any imminent departure," Ezra replied also adding under his breath, "Although whiskey would definitely speed that recovery."

Chris chuckled. He suspected the suave gambler didn't want to leave anymore then they wanted him too, but appearances were everything to the urbane gambler. Chris was willing to play along.

"You let us know when you've recovered," Chris replied as Vin and he headed towards the saloon.

"I will indeed, Mr. Larabee, but I find these things sometimes take time," Ezra called out as he pulled the blanket up and leaned back in the chair allowing his eyes to close.

"Yes, a long time indeed."

**THE END**

**Glad you all are enjoying my revised/updated old stories. They let me refine my writing skills.**


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